12 Rings
by 5050railtime
Summary: (AU) 12 rings, each forged by the universe since the beginning of time. Each containing the genetic bluprints to one of twelve alien species. One being seeks to collect them all and rewrite the universe in his image. (SYOC-CLOSED)
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: I've noticed a severe lacking in Ben 10 SYOC on this site. Or maybe I'm just too lazy to look? I don't know.**_

 _ **I don't own jack.**_

Within the countless stars that darts space, there are voids. Spaces stretching across billions of light years. Lacking both normal matter and dark matter. It is questioned by the greatest minds if anything can exist in these voids, and how they were formed in the first place.

They would soon get their answer.

Within the Boötius Void floats a fleet of stationary flagships. All of them easily covering a dozen football fields. Within the main chamber of the flagship stood a lanky being; Its body nine feet tall, obserdly lenthy limbs and small glowing white eyes. It's form was entirely obsidian with glowing patterns of white streaks humming with energy. Humanoid. But at the same time...not quite. The lesser looking beings that darted around it looked much more closely related to the humanoid form in figure and stance, yet still shared the other properties of the higher being.

The being stared mindlessly at the large, overarching screen that took up a third of the room. The only thing that was separating it and it's sabordanants from the almost black nothingness that was on the other side.

The screen began to chirp and flicker, the vast universe beyond these strange beings disappearing from view. In its place, sat a little girl. Diceptivly human, if not for the cartoonishly long ears that pointed straight up. Her skin was peach, she wore heavy red eye shadow, and her raven black hair was pulled into a ponytail that hung on the left side of her head. From what could be seen on screen, she was wearing some sort of yellow and pink frilly princess garb straight out of a fairytail.

She growled, mutch to the pitch of a newborn cub, and showing some gaps from missing teeth.

"Ńoderè!" She screeched. "What's your status with the ranger!?"

The being now addressed as Ńoderè finally began to show some form of life since its name has been called. It tillted its head up to the screen, the girl cringing in unease at the sight of it, and begane to emit low electronic sounds. It's glowing patterns flickering with the frequency.

On the other side of the call, the "princess" sat in a more cozy room. The window to space outside clear as she was instead looking at a monitor, sitting in a high chair, while a similar, elder being stood next to her in a matching regal outfit. On the screen, Ńoderè's 'face' took up the entirety of it, his electronic language being translated into something the princess can read below his eyes. After scanning the text once, the princess let out a screech and began banging on the monitor keydesk.

" Well if you can't find him, why'd you bother showing up in the first place!?" The old man beside her pulled the chair back so she could do no further damage.

"Your grace, please calm down. This is not good for your health."

"Hmph!" She jumped off the chair and stomped out of the chamber room. "If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself!"

Far from their respective fleets flew a lone Dreadnaught. Far larger and much less subtle than the ones from before. An almost glowing white base color with occasional red patterns. As if to invite those who would dare to do harm.

Inside was where the action was happening.

Lasor bullets of all sorts of variety screemed through the halls, few of them barely grazing their target while others missed by a mile. What they were aiming at was a man. Seemingly young and fit from what his form fitting space suit managed to reveal. He was riding on a hovering bike that was fast enough to avoid gunfire, yet slow enough sdo that he wouldn't lose the package he held in his right arm.

One of the gunman who was chasing him down got a lucky shot at the bikes core engine, causing it to lose height and crash, sending the man tumbling into a large chamber. He began to cough, using what strength he had left to push himself off of the carbon floor. He realized that his hands were free, frantically looking about the room before his eyes landed on a blue and red cube. He lunged after it, coming within a hairs distance before a laser blast to the abdomen sent him flying in the opposite direction.

From the smoke where his stolen bike had layed, out stepped a large figure; A white cape flowing about on a non-existant breeze, blood red knight-like cybernetic armor that covered from head to toe. Visibly male. Absurdly muscular, not to mention tall. And a glowing greatsword a foot longer than himself in his left hand. He stood a good distance away from the smaller man, his eyes set on the cube that sat innocently between them. He tilted his head to the side slightly as a dozen troops wearing similar color scheemed gear came pouring in.

The man who layed clutching his fatal injury reached behind his back and pulled out a grappling gun, firing it at the box and pulling it towards him in the blink of an eye.

The troops steadied their guns at him in response, but the large man raised his hand at them, and they stood at ease. At least for the moment. The large man slowly pointed his greatsword at the wounded intruder.

"Simply lay that box at your feet, Ranger," he started, his voice deep and demanding, yet calm."And I promise, your death will be swift and painless."

The Ranger's breath was heavy, the world slowly fading around him, but he could still hear. He turned his head to the side and spat out a bit of blood, chuckling to himself, for the fact that he still managed to leave a mark. He coughed once more and turned back to the knight.

"Just give up...and go out silently...?"

The troops looked about each other, all curious as to what that meant.

"Sorry." He reached behind his back and pulled out a small remote with a single button. "Rangers tend to make alot of noise." And he pressed it.

The entire room shook violently, and for a moment, they believed to have stumbled upon heavy asteroids. That was until the whole room began to glare with horns and flashing red lights.

Warning: Critical internal structural damage. Warning: Critical internal structural damage.

The feminine robotic voice only had to say it a few times for everyone to get the picture. The Knight spun to his troopers.

"Flee, men! Evacuate the area now!" With that, everyone sprinted out of the room. Save for the man who pressed the button in the first place. He has let the remote slide away with the rumbling of the room and held the box close to his chest.

The front of the Dreadnaught had small spurts of explosions until a whole 1/4 blew off of the entire structure. Surviving the event with severe cracks, the box flew at great speeds away from the Dreadnaught, eventually careening towards a little known mudball called Earth.

Watching all of this, a shrouded figure, in an area bearly lit by floating orbs, chuckled to himself.

"Now, it is all for grabs."

/

So, that was the pilot episode. If you'd like to share your thoughts I'm open to them. Or, realistically, if you want to skip down to the SYOC template, here it is:

(Note: Do not put any apps in the review. Pm only.)

(Also note: You may submit more than one character.)

Name:

Age: (must be within senior in high school range)

Gender:

Appearance:

Personality: (Do not just list traits. Must be at least 300 words)

Bio: (Must be at least 250 words)

Chosen Ring Color: (Though I will list all of them, you must pick one. If the one you have picked had already been chosen, I will ask you to pick a different one. And yes, these are all colors. I looked them up.)

.Aero

.Violet

.Acid

.Amber

.Aqua

.Bone

.Brass

.Charcoal

.Dandilion

.Apple

.Barbie

.Blood


	2. Chapter 2

**Well folks, time's almost up for apps. If I do not meet the quota by the 20th, I'll fill the remaining spots with my own characters and we can get this party going. Until then, imma just bump up the cast sheet so people will know who has what ring.**

Gezella Leclerc - Blood

Jonah Hampshire - Bone

Skylar Singh - Aero

Jackson Parts - Brass

Not Claimed - Dandilion

Not Claimed - Charcoal

Not Claimed - Aqua

Not Claimed - Violet

Not Claimed - Apple

Not Claimed - Barbie

Not Claimed - Acid

Reserved - Amber


	3. Chapter 3

When you hear the word alien, what's the first thing you think of? Extraterrestrial life? Other people?Animals living in their non-native ecosystems? All of them basically boil down to one thing; invasion. Something being where it doesn't, initially, belong, and not giving a dang about it. Kind of makes you curious on how far that can go. Who would've thought that a few dozen barnacles - pretty harmless creatures - sticking to the hull of a ship would tear the unsuspecting ecosystem a new one. The barnacles would eat the algae in expense to the smaller barnacles, the small fish die off because they can't eat, the bigger fish die off because the smaller fish are all gone, the fisherman get less and less fish every year, the price of quality fish goes up, people get angry, collars sweat, people lose their jobs. All because of something you can scrape off with a shovel. Now, sometimes it's not all bad. There can be benefits. In the far distant future - but they'll come. But, here's something else to wonder. What do _aliens_ consider aliens?

Turns out, not so different.

One of them, an intergalactic warlord by the name of General Bralkiry, a warlord known by his infamous bulk and tactical prowess on the battlefield, has had an particular breed of aliens smear a line of embarrassment on his reputation. These aliens are known as the rangers, a collection of bounty hunters, mercenaries, smugglers - just about everything Bralkiry wishes he could do without with one swing of his blade. But alas, such a thing is impossible. The rangers are not specific to one species within the galaxy, so giving them all a pet name was much easier in terms of classification. What _wasn't_ easy was tracking them down.

For about a month and a half, General Bralkiry has been on a hunt for twelve cosmic rings said to contain infinite power within them. All who had been on the hunt for them in the past either return a twisted version of themselves or may as well have died. For such items to garner such a reputation in a short amount of time, it made sense why the general would seek this power out for himself. Unfortunately for him, the parasites - as he _prefers_ to call the Rangers - got to them first. A small band of five, racing amongst the stars in a ship they most likely have stolen a week before, had somehow managed to contain the rings in an equally peculiar box. Long story short, catching up to the rangers cost him a dreadnaught. Something he is not _particularly_ proud of. And now, he would like to do away with this frustration.

Walking through the stretched halls of one of his smaller cruisers, General Bralkiry's heavy armored footsteps were only slightly muted by the similar footsteps of four armored soldiers that evenly followed in stried. Where the general is an even 7'5' and made entirely of muscle, the soldiers were equally as imposing in build, if not a foot shorter. The soldiers and general continued down the hallway in silence until they came upon a steel door three feet taller than the general. He stood feet spread with his hands behind his back and the soldiers did the same. A small bulb in the center of the door glowed a deep red and stretched a paper thin light across the hall. The light scanned across the general and his soldiers before going dim. A second later, the door parted into the walls, leaving the opening to a dim lit room. The ceiling was about fifty feet high with about a dozen wide support columns. Crates lined up neatly in isles stretching about one fouth of a mile, all filled with miscellaneous items. About five hundred individuals could fit in this room with comfortable space to spare. But today, there were only eight.

On the far side opposite to where the general entered were the other three. One of them, was a creature that seemed to be a blend of a jellyfish and an octopus; it's sickly greyish body was two feet in height and about a third of that in width. It bore seven thick tentacles, the first six dropping from his head like dreadlocks, and the seventh in the center. Which was also where it's beak-like mouth was. This creature was called V'arst. _What_ he was, however, nobody cared to ask. What the oncomers to the scene before them _did_ know, was that it would be in all their best interest to keep their distance for the moment.

With V'arst were two steel beds, both of which had a humanoid female confined on them, to the point where they could only move their heads. Both had patches of third degree burns around their heads and torso, more specifically, the female on the generals right had most of her hair burned off, while the one to his left's eyes were melted. Clearly both of these women were trained to endure the most intense pain, for the general could only hear hisses of anguish behind clenched teeth. If not for their heavy breathing, the general would wonder if these two could feel pain at all. V'arst, laughing and floating amongst the two of them by which of some psychic power, took joy in his handywork. The woman who still had her eyes barked some curse at the floating cephalopod. It had to be a curse, the general thought, for it stopped V'arst in his moment of glee. In a blur of speed, V'arst flew to her and plunged his seventh tentacle deep into her throat, creating an airtight seal, while the other tentacles wrapped tightly around her head. A small patch on V'arst's head glowed a dim orange and the woman's back arched upwards. As electricity crackled and sparked around the metal bed, the woman's back arched in a way that it threatened to detach her torso from her limbs. A few more seconds of this, and the electricity stopped. The woman's back slowly drifted back to the now burning metal bed and V'arst pulled himself out, his center tentacle slick with saliva and blood. The second he moved from her face, the woman turned her head and violently vomited a pint of blood.

Something the general never likes to see, but it keeps this creature tolerable when there was actual work to be done. For the most part.

The general turned to the soldiers standing behind him. They all stood at attention with their feet together, left arm held across their back and right held across their chest. He gave the four a nod before turning back to V'arst.

"Has your thirst for pain been quenched?"

The deepest voice V'arst had ever heard knocked him out of his stupor, and out of the air. He caught himself and drifted slowly towards his master. He flew eye level, his head slightly bowed and tentacles hung like an umbrella. His form of salute.

"Ma-ster Br-alki-ry," V'arst addressed, his voice cutting out to a deep hack in between syllables, "V'arst has made joy of ran-ger filt-h."

Bralkiry folded his hands behind his back and walked in between the two beds. The women looked to be clinging on the final threads of life. Using every bit of their strength to stay conscious, for they would not awake if they lost it. They seemed to be of peek physique, as far as their respective species were concerned. Not that he cared to much about it. Though, in a different situation, Bralkiry may have pondered the idea of having these two as personal mistresses. Would be a win-win situation, he would receive the pleasures of which they can provide, and their names will be tarnished for all of history. Though it would not last. Even in peek condition, the combined efforts of these two would amount to nothing more than a cheap toy. And break just as easy.

"So you say."

Bralkiry held up one hand and V'arst gave a deeper bow, exiting the room. He began to pace back and fourth in between the beds, scanning every curve and muscle on these two until he had a 3-d image of them in his mind. Once that was done, he addressed them both.

"What you two have experienced for the past few hours would not qualify as even a demonstration of my full power. Here, you are at my mercy. Here, my slightest gestures can affect your future for better or worse. Here, I am a god." He paused, making sure what he has aid has properly sank into there psyche. "Before you are properly judged, I am giving you but one chance to receive my empathy. You both have endured much by no small measure, and I believe such will can be rewarded." He paused to scan their faces once more. It did not matter who these two were before all of this, no one, not even their families would recognize them." I understand that a handful of ranger organizations have made bases within the Zeta, Ara and Bon systems, however, I have not been able to locate what planets these bases have taken refuge. Relinquish their locations to me now, and I will-"

"What kind of moron are you?" The freshly chard woman hissed at the general. Bralkiry simply held his breath and looked down to her. "You're standing there with-you're shiny armor and that st-stupid-", she turned her head away and hacked up more blood. It appeared that simply talking was making her condition worse. When the coughing ceased, she continued.

"That-stupid cape. The only way you know about us-is by a stupid nickname. This was-just a job. What makes you think we know anything?" She ended the rant by spitting a wad of blood in the generals direction. She had aimed for his helmet, but overestimated her weak state and the blood splattered and inch from his boots. He hadn't minded one bit. The more she vents, the more energy she wastes, and the quieter she'll become. Once this ones breathing returned to normal, the general had realized his right ear had been lonely. He turned to the blinded woman, who was presently staring into the abyss with her empty sockets.

"What say you? Are you a free agent?"

The aforementioned girl instinctively swallowed a bit of saliva after being addressed. Her breathing got heavier, to the point where she had to breath out of her mouth. It was more than obvious to the general that this one wasn't as spunky as her perceived partner. Even though she had lost the windows to her soul, her visage told the general everything he had to know. He just had to wait for what she had to say. After a few seconds of silence, the woman tilted her head towards the generals voice.

"I...", another pause. "...I don't want want to be here..." The general took a single step towards her bed.

" What do you mean?"

"I don't want to be here...,"she repeated. "I don't want to stay in the dark...I hate it...I hate it so much." She turned her head back to the ceiling and closed her mouth tight, taking a deep breath in her nostrils, then relaxed her face. " Blippe YPDG-40, Baestea HLDQ-3012, CLora LFZ-2, SpAra 7-N-30." She paused, searching her mind for more names, but came up blank.

"That's all I know..." but that wasn't all. "They're not planets. They're all fleets in the Zeta system."

General Bralkiry was taken aback. He did not think the rangers were able to form quite the formidable militia. A mental file he would save for a later time. Though, a strained thud from behind him ripped him from his thoughts.

"You brain dead idiot!" The chared woman roared. Apparently, she still had energy. "What does it matter if you die!? Do you have any idea what could happen to this galaxy if somebody like _him_ got a hold of those rings?! He doesn't care! He-" That last syllable lodged itself in the woman's throat as the rest of her body glowed bright red and evaporated into mist. The general let down his dimly shimmering gauntlet and put it back behind his back. He took a few quiet steps towards the head of the metal bed and gently laid a gauntlet on the woman's worn chest.

"The light shall return to you." He turned and walked out of the chamber, with the four soldiers releasing her bounds. Parallel to the chamber the general entered a less spacious room. The edges of the ceilings were covered in polished screens of varying sizes. All of them either showing maps of the galaxy and focusing on different sectors, while others were focused on planets. Dozens of flying cephalopods, similar to V'arst, were flying about, assisting the soldiers in white and red who were manning the controls. The general approached one particular squid, it's most notable feature was was the extra long seventh tentacle on its head and none down the center, indicating it was a female.

"F'eza," he addressed her. "Send a fleet to the Zeta system."

F'eza gave her umbrella bow and pressed a few keys on the monitor below her, then stopped. "Ma-ster," she said. "That is sev-en jumps for o-ur fla-g shi-ps. Why so far?"

"To take care of an itch on my side. As much as I would like to join them, there is _another_ itch on my side I'd like soothed now. Have you tracked the box?" F'eza nodded her head and pressed a few more keys. Taking up a third of the screen appeared a blue and green planet with a few spots of white.

"Ea-rth," she croaked. "4.54 bill-ion years young. Three hun-dred nin-ty one spec-ies of flo-ra. 8.7 mill-ion spec-ies of fau-na. Earth's pop-u-lace is dom-i-nat-ed by hom-o sap-iens. 7.4 bill-ion and coun-ting. Ra-di-o tow-ers and sat-el-ites all-ow trans-cont-in-en-tal comm-u-ni-ca-tion. Smart dev-ices all-ow pock-et-ed know-ledge dat-ing two thou-sand years."

Bralkiry scoffed. "An infant planet housing a primitive species." He turned to leave. "Set a course. This shouldn't take long."

Speaking of Earth, what's going on down there...

"Gah!"

Well then.

Welcome to the little big town of Goldbill. Known mainly for its creeks, sandlots and horse ranches. Facing north is a cool qnd comforting forest most of the year, to the south is most unforgiving desert the U.S. of A has to offer, and somewhere in between is a bunch of sand. The only people dumb enough to go out there during this summer are tourists and...well, no, just them. It's just rocks and tumbleweeds, people. The one who screamed earlier, a young lad by the name of Jonah Hamphshire, had just felt what it would be like to get his pinky toe amputated. Dashing of his sheets, his best friend, Terrence the Turtle, smiled his turtle smile as Jonah clenched his aching foot to his chest.

The boy fell out of his bed in pain an rose with newfound furry. Though it didn't last. Believe it or not, staying mad at a ten pound reptile is a hard thing to do. Instead, Jonah just picked him up and put him back in his gated cage on the floor, squatting down to him.

"Now why would you wake me up like that?" Terrence answered by pointing his head to a calendar on the wall. Jonah looked up and all color drained from his face. August 3rd...first day of school. What time is it? He shot up from the ground and sprinted across his bed, snatching his alarm clock from his desk and crashing back down on the other side of his bed. 6:15 am. Class starts at seven.

He's late.

Jonah kicked up from the floor and landed on his feet, something he saw and would probably never pull off again on purpose, but no time for that now. He had to get dressed. He threw open his closet and was immediately distressed; he had forgotten all about back to school shopping. These clothes were around the house clothes, not school clothes. He would chew himself out for making such a stupid mistake later, he could salvage something from all of this. The next few minuets were spent with Jonah turning his closet upside down, tossing socks, pants and shirts all over the room, burying Terrence amongst the chaos. By 6:30, Jonah threw himself in front of his full view mirror and was, overall satisfied: Navy blue hoodie shirt he got one size too small so it wouldn't be baggy on his skinny frame, dark wash slim fit jeans and a fresh pair of yet to be worn black converse. He let out a breath of success and ran into his bedroom bathroom for one final checkup. His white dyed hair was a mess. Running a few fingers through it was enough to set it right, with bangs falling a few centimeters from his cyan blue eyes. Looking closer, his fair skinned face was free of any unappealing pimples, but he still washed his face to be on the safe side. There was no way he was going to screw this up. First impressions at school are important. Or...so he's read. Being homeschooled for eighteen years may be a disadvantage, but he had no excuse to not try.

After freshening up and cleaning his room faster than he ever did in his life, Jonah raced downstairs with his bookbag held slung over one shoulder. Once he made his way to the kitchen, he tossed the bag to the side and began making himself breakfast, to the startle of a middle aged woman who was sitting perpendicular in the living room, watching daytime telivision.

"Jonah!" She gasped, a hand over her chest. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Good morning, Jude!" Jonah almost cheered to his aunt, taking an early bite of his honey turkey sub before he was finished making it. "I slept in, gonna be late for class." Jonah wrapped the rest of his sandwich in paper towel and threw in a sports bottle filed with iced tea.

"Class?" Jude squinted her eyes in thought, and her whole body tensed. She grabbed the remote and muted the tv, rushing over to Jonah.

"Uh, d-don't you think I should drive you. Let me get my keys."

"Wha-" Jonah tied up his bag and picked up his bag whilst watching Jude searching through the kitchen counters for her car keys. "You don't need to drive me, I'm supposed to take a bus anyways." On that, he set off to the front door, catching a middle aged man shuffling down the hallway in the corner of his eye. Thinking it'd be rude not to, Jonah turned on a dime to give his uncle Pete dap (a handshake) and he unconsciously did the same in kind. "Later, Pete." And with that, he walked out the door. That sentence was enough for Pete to fully wake up from his groggy stupor. He looked to see Jude clutching her car keys in her hands as she watched the door until it shut. When it did, they both let out stressed sighs.

Jonah started with a slow stride on the sidewalk, looking at his watch. Its 6:42, the bus was supposed to arrive at 6:45, and he doubt it would stay long to wait for him. He looked around, this neighborhood was completely flat, no hills or uneven road to be seen for city miles. He knew this neighborhood like the back of his hand, the bus stop was five blocks away. At the pace he was going now, it would take about ten minutes. At a full sprint, he would cut that time in half. He took a deep breath and sped up. His legs were going to kill him for this, but it'd be worth it.

The residential area of Goldbill wasn't known for its constant traffic, so the flat-nosed Goldbill school bus's daily transits were always a cruise. The driver pulled up to his last stop and immediately thought he may have gone senile. Apparently, there was a young man clutching the bottom of a light post, looking like he had just ran a marathon. Opening the doors, the driver called out to him.

"You waitin' on me, bud?"

Jonah looked up at him, his face drenched in sweat, and began to stand. "I...thought...I was...late..."

"Yeah, we all are. Come on."

Jonah practically crawled up the bus stairs and the doors closed behind him the second he was inside. Finally standing up, Jonah saw that this bus, other than the driver, was vacant, save for one seat in the very back.

His skin was so pale it seemed unlikely he ever got a good taste of Arizona sun. His obsidian hair was straight and long, long enough to reach past his chest. An unnerving amount of lean, defined bulk. Heavy lifting must be apart of his daily routine. Covering this body was a pure black tank top with matching, extra baggy pants, fingerless gloves, combat boots and a duffle bag on his lap. Jonah had now realized that this guy had not taken his eyes off of him since he got on the bus. So he sat down. Hoping that wordless exchange wasn't an invitation to something unpleasant.

One ten minute smooth drive later, they arrived in the drive through straight towards Goldbill Tech; fourteen buildings, five feilds, a theater, a creek, a dozen miscellaneous stores and a small park. Everything a university campus would have, and just as big, but it wasn't. The only thing that separated this place from a college was the fact that it had grades 1 to 12.

The students exited the bus and the scrawny one of the two waved off the bus driver. Jonah sighed deeply, pride gleaming in his eyes. He was a senior now. A title that garnered the most freedom and respect amongst all public schools. He turned from the bus' path and instictevly fell back onto the parking lot. The hulking goth boy had not budged an inch since he had gotten of the bus. What made things even scarier was that he had not taken his eyes of Jonah, to which the boy was quivering in fear. He had half expected this boy to -denying all barriers of logic- snap him in half with one arm while his other still held his bag.

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone, silently texting someone. Jonah, fearing for his life, held his bag up in front of his face as a makeshift shield. The boy finished texting and put his phone away. He still did not move from where he stood, but his focus was no longer on the white haired boy.

To make this a bit more like a horror film, by the dozens, goth's and punks of varying shapes, sizes and stomach churning intensity began to emerge from the woodwork. Literally. They all appeared from behind trees and cars as if they were summoned. They all congealed into a perfect circle around Jonah. This was it, the skinny boy thought. Hadn't even stepped into the school and his life was in jeopardy. He watched as a fairly attractive goth girl parted her way through the crowd and wrapped her arms affectionately around the towering goth's free arm. She -as well as all the newcomers- shot the white haired boy murderous glares before starting to part.

"Wait!"

The parting stopped, and the punks congealed again. This time forming a tighter, tighter circle. If Jonah wasn't one hundred percent certain they were gonna kill him before, it was a fact now. The goth girl hugging his 'bus buddy' was the first to bark at him.

"What!?"

Jonah shakily stood to his feet, one hand clutching his bag while the other fished feivorishly inside for something. Then he found it; a neatly folded up peice of yellow paper. A few of the kids around him were confused, while the others scoffed or chuckled at their realisation; A schedule paper.

"D-Do you know where u-um-," he wipped a bit of sweat from his brow, "M-Ms. DePoitont's class is?"

Again, there were mixed reactions amungst the crowd. Some were surprised, others groaned to themselves and the rest started to chuckle. The apparent leaders -as far as Jonah was concerned- had reactions opposite of everyone else. The towering goth's demeanor seemed to visibly settle, like he was relaxing, while the girl's face went from murderous to stilled silence. The boy took a step from his 'girlfriend' and offered Jonah a hand. The boy hesitantly accepted it and stood to his feet.

"Small world, were in the same class." He spoke softly, but his voice carried an eerie dominance he has only seen in comics. "I'm Roger. Follow me." He turned around and walked out of the parking lot, the crowd parting as he did. Once he cleared the crowd the hive-minded mosh pit followed. Jonah took a step to follow as well but was pushed back by Roger's 'girlfriend'.

"Keep your distance." She warned, venom dripping from her words as she sped off to nuzzle against Roger.

Welp, how about that? First day of school and an archfiend in human skin with his succubus had just given him another day to live. Wheather or not their pack of devils would not just eat him alive any other day for the rest of the year was up in the air.

Man, he had to stop reading horror books.

"I'm almost done! I swear! Just let me - Ah!"

Within the high school wing gymnasium, preparations for the school science fair had been properly scooted off to the far side of the gym, while the school cheerleaders had more than enough space to practice with other athletes. However, it was specifically said that the early mornings would be exclusive to athletes of their respective sport. That didn't stop campus renowned extraterrestrial activist Skylar Singh from sneaking in. Though she was one who would rather use her brains than her body to get what she wanted, this was one of the few exceptions; she had managed to snag a pair of the cheerleaders uniform: a tight fitting sleeveless golden crop top with pure white hot pants. Not to mention she did work out occasionally, , so her body was toned enough to get in without anyone giving her a second glance.

She had used this opportunity to put on some of the finishing touches on her science project, aptly titled "Why We're Not Alone". It had sandwich bags filled with strange looking minerals and about a dozen plastic bases filled with oddly snapped rocks. The cardboard itself was entirely covered with articles from scientists all over the world who argue the existence of alien lifeforms. In her gym bag were but a few more items she had to add in order for this project to be truly complete. And something special; a strange obsidian box that seemed to glow twelve different colors She had found it sitting on the side of the highway when she was driving to school. She couldn't find the words to explain it, but there was no way something like this would have just been thrown off the road for anyone to see. It had to be alien.

Well, she didn't have the chance to even place the box on her project's desk. Jordan Willson, the captain of the cheer squad, had found Skylar snooping in her science-y little corner of the gym. With a snap of her fingers, she had two of the biggest male cheerleaders literally pick her up and toss her into the hall. When they were done, she stood like a monarch peering down at a groveling pesant as Skylar stood to her feet.

"I don't know who you think you are, "She started, eyeng the girl up and down, "or where you got one of my outfits. But if I can still smell you in the next five seconds, Mr. Barson is going to have a child day with you." She ended the threat with a wink, and a none too pleasant one.

Skylar growled at her before turning around and speeding off. Her outfit! Skylar had to by this sorry excuse for a uniform with her own money!

Proud of her work, Jordan turned back towards the gym to catch two of her squad members trying to get a peek at the drama from underneath the bleachers. The smaller of the two was a Japanese-american girl by the name of Bobbi Ito. Light brown hair cut short so only but a few bangs can get in the way of her brown eyes. Bottom heavy, though Jordan refuses to believe it's real. Then there was Alannah Breen, the scotswoman transfer student. Or, 'the amazon', as everyone likes to put it. 6'9' drop dead gorgeous redhead with endowments to compliment her size. As soon as the two of them noticed Jordan saw them, they disappeared back behind the bleachers.

"You two think I'm blind? Come here!" She ordered. The two reluctantly obeyed and stood before her. "Did somebody give you two the okay to stop practicing?" She crossed her arms, waiting for and answer to her rhetorical question.

Alanna scratched her head, honestly pondering it. "Um...well, I don' know for sure. But I thought we were takin' a bathroom break." Her accent was heavy, as was the gravitational pull to the black hole that was her head. Alannah wasn't dumb, per sey, but some of the most common sense things still eluded her to this day. Both the Japanese girl and cheer captain rubbed their temples. She was more than a headache to deal with.

"I don't want to hear it," she groaned, "just get your pom poms and shake what God gave you. I wanna sweat just watching you! Move!"

The classroom wings were much less eventful. Jonah was powering through the crowds as best he could, looking up from the map he picked up from the school lobby every few steps to make sure he didn't get lost. There was something else he didn't quite expect from his first day; the kids. Not only were there more of them than he anticipated, even by public school standards, they were much more...attractive than he expected. Maybe it was his watching various live action tv and animated shows that took place in schools. There was pretty much a characature for everybody. Not here. Everyone here had shojo faces with comic book figures. Nobody tried to have at him, so maybe he looked the part somewhat.

A hand gripped his hoodie and he almost fell to his back. Welp, so mach for that thought. He quickly turned around to see a woman who might as well have just gotten back from Burning Man; long brown dreadlocks, 70's shades, slippers and an oversized tunic that he had hoped hid her unmentionables, instead of _nothing at all._

"Yo, White Horse." She greeted with a two fingered salute, hanging from a classroom door frame with her opposite hand. She had to have been talking to him, granted nobody else spoke up. "You tha' new breed in town, kemo sabe?"

Jonah looked around, hopelessly confused. "Uh, n-no? I'm Jonah Hamphshire. I'm looking for room-" The older woman snatched the yellow paper from his hands, much to his distress. The woman scanned the paper for a few seconds before handing it back to him. "Yup, you're good."

"Huh?" Jonah looked at his paper and at the blue plaque with white writing that was bolted next to the door. Class - 655, Ms. Depoitont. Realisation soon graced the white haired boy's face as Ms. Depoitont pulled herself back up and stood eye to eye. She jutted her thumb towards the classroom.

"Ya got five minuets to make yourself decent, White Horse, c'mon." She stood behind him and gently pushed the boy inside. The class was, remarkably empty. Chairs filled it up about a third of the way, with shelves of math books and some equations written on the chalkboard of varying difficulty. As for students, aside from him, there were four others;

The first was Rodger, sitting in the far back row -not a shock- and the furthest away from anyone else. The next two were two boys who were living up the whole room, their laughs rivaling the chatter in the hall last was a girl who Jonah believed walked straight out of Hollywood, Boulevard; expensive looking tight black mini dress, silver hoop earrings, shiny lip gloss and a nice-

"Ahem!"

Jonah's eyes shot up to her eyes. If looks could kill, he'd keel over. Twice over. He stood there wondering why she'd give him such a glare, then his eyes glanced down, then back up. His face went beat red and he rushed to the back of the class, her glare following him all the way.

"Don't worry, my man," one of the chatty boys chuckled,"those are pretty hard to miss." He gave Jonah a reassuring pat on the back while his friend nodded in agreement.

"Don't close the door!" Almost tripping her way in, Skylar skidded inside the classroom and wrapped her arm around Ms. DePoitont for support. Then the bell rang, and before it stopped, the rest of the students managed to pour in. They were _supposed_ to be in their seats before the bell rang, as DePoitont's been warned, but just chilling on the lockers wasn't too bad.

Calculus. She'd prefer to be teaching Phisycs -way more fun- but parents didn't like how her class smelt last year. She closed the door and faced her students. Some familiars, a few new, all spread out. That's a no go.

"All right, peeps," she rose her hands in a beconing motion, "we're not gonna get used to everybody's smell in our room like this. Pull in." Everyone either immideatly or reluctantly got up and moved closer to the board. Some became content with it, others begged to swap with somebody else. "Good. I'd say write your names on your desks, but the janitors will never leave this room alone." She read their names aloud from a sheet of paper, everyone but one was present. Alastair, the boy with combed back wavy black hair, looked around curiously.

"Uh, Ms. D?" He called out.

"Yo." She responded, fiddling with stacks of paper behind her desk.

"This it?" He gestured with his hand to the room. The students took up almost two rows of seats, leaving four barren. A few other students lifted their heads up, wondering the same thing and waiting for a response.

Ms. D looked up, brushing some dreads out of her eyes, looked around, and nodded. "Yep. Pretty cozy, huh?"

"I like it." Jackson Parts ran a hand through his blonde curls as he watched Ms. D hand out packets. "Manageble. Quiet enough to think. I'd say we lucked out." He expected some sort of acknowledgement, but got none. His eyes drifted over to Rodger -not noticing he was sitting right next to him- and quickly looked back in front of him.

Skylar shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She had wished there would've been time to change into something less binding. Alanna and Bobbi didn't squirm an inch, then again, they were twice as athletic than she was. She heard the faint sound of electronic music and looked to the seat ahead of her. Jonah was playing some sort of hand held device, and by the looks of it, he was pretty good.

"Whattcha playin'?"

Jonah almost jumped out of his seat and drop the device. He turned his head to look Skylar in the eyes, averting his gaze as to not repeat what happened earlier. She noticed this, frowned, and shot a quick glare to Piper. His first day in class and she already made him feel unwelcome. Well, she had to change that. She reached over her desk to tap his shoulder. "I'm not like her, I promise."

Jonah took a second to think it over, and his shoulders sank with a sigh. He looked back with a thin smile.

"I'm Skylar." She held her hand out. The boy took it and gave a firm shake, to which she reared back.

"Ow!" She snapped. "What're you trying to do, tear my hand off? Do I look like a guy to you?" Her kind smile vanished and Jonah saw nothing but ire. His eyes widened, quickly looking around to see if anyone was watching.

"I-I-I'm-"

" _Kidding,_ " the girl laughed, playfully nudging his shoulder. "You won't get far if you take everything too seriously." Her smile returned, now struggling to contain laughter at the look of the new kids face.

Jonah's heart felt like it was about to explode. Was everybody just out to get him in their own creative ways? Sure, he didn't know what to expect, but this was a bit much.

Skylar's eyes trailed down to his game device. "Hey, is that Space Volley?" She asked, inching her seat closer to get a better look. It didn't look like he's played it for a while -noting a lack of damage and wear- so he must've gotten it. Jonah struggled a bit to find the words to answer back.

"Uh, y-yeah..." he mumbled, "I got it for my birthday."

"Cool, cool." She nodded, watching the game. "So you like aliens, huh?"

"What?"

"Aliens." She said again, now looking at him, making some gestures with her hands. "Big eyes, grey skin, _probing,_ "she accentuated the last word with a wink, making the boy blush. "Aliens. Actually..." She started shifting through her duffle bag, smiling eagerly at the boy. "Wanna see something cool?"

"We can pass notes after the test, little peeps." Ms. D announced as she slapped the last packet on a desk. "Technically you guys have all period, but if everyone's done with enough time left we can all get to know each other. Be mindful, there're no cameras." She slumped back on her chair, focusing her attention on the many files on the computer monitor while her students were more focused on what that last statement implied. The test questions were all random, making cheating an imposbility, but everyone seemed to go through it at a decent pace. Skylar almost burned her pencil to brim as she finished her test first, jumping up and handing it to Ms. D. She then leaned in and whispered something in her ear. The teacher shrugged and nodded, Skylar jogged back to her bag and heaved the strap over her shoulder.

"Hey, take this," she whispered, holding out a pure black ring, "it's special." Jonah looked up from his test to see Skylar was already wearing the same ring, but there was a strange greenish blue glow inside the black. It immideatly peaked his interest, and he grabbed it. "I have a science presentation during lunch, and you gotta be one of my models." He thought about a response, but she didn't wait for it. She handed the rest of the rings to the students, a bit frustrated as she fished around for one more but couldn't find it. She left the room and everyone was left steadily finishing their assignments.


End file.
